


Carpe Diem (or Rohan and Izumi's Day Off)

by clunion68



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alright it's really mostly about the kids, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dadko, Family Feels, Fire Nation Capital, Fire Nation Royal Family, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Minor Mentions of Violence, Momtara, Post-100 Year War (Avatar TV), Post-Avatar: The Last Airbender, Sibling Bonding, Sneaking Out, Twins, ah they're all just trying to figure out their place in the world, anyway, anyway once again, but also like introspective, call a dentist when you're done reading, i mean i don't even know what canon is anymore, i miss my siblings it's fine it's fine, kids will be kids, let's get to some real tags, let's not leave out, like iroh and sokka get brief shoutouts, like..... these kids just LOVE EACH OTHER, oh whoops need to add this one, sigh, so i included them in the character list, soft, the day is soft, the world is soft, there's a cat, this is another fluffy one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26063824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clunion68/pseuds/clunion68
Summary: Call it coincidence, call it twin telepathy, call it whatever you want.It's a beautiful day in the Capital, and neither Rohan nor Izumi (Prince and Princess of the Fire Nation, Youngest Son and Daughter of blah blah blah) are going to spend it behind palace gates.To quote another great piece of media (Ferris Bueller's Day Off):“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Kudos: 33





	Carpe Diem (or Rohan and Izumi's Day Off)

**Author's Note:**

> If you're looking for musical accompaniment, keep "On a Clear Day" from Kiki's Delivery Service on LOOP (especially for the last few paragraphs!)

_He’s really gotta stop leaving it in his desk drawer._

Rohan jabbed the tip of his father’s dagger into a rough apple slice.

_At least make it a challenge._

The apple could have been mushier for that time of year. He cut another slice and stabbed it.

_“Never Give Up Without a Fight”_

Not the worst thing to engrave on a dagger. It’s maybe not what he would put on a blade, but it was a nice thought. No, when Rohan finally got his own, when he could finally leave his father’s old things alone, he would make sure that it would say something bone-chilling or nothing at all.

_Too Late. Yeah. Maybe. Would be kinda funny, unless … unless someone attacked you with your own … weapon… then…_

The weather could have been worse, hotter, the air more stagnant. The apple could have been mushier. The last chunk snapped off neat, he popped it into his mouth neat, he cast the core out like a fishing line and watched the water try to claim it. He wiped the blade off on his pants, wiped his mouth off with his arm, returned the dagger to its sheath, and the sheathed dagger to his boot. The air was noisy, noisy with the trailing scent of dead fish, fresh catches waiting to be sold, thick with the traffic of voices, sailors, merchants, travelers, scammers, children – dozens to fade into at every block, around every corner. A woman screamed something about the price of squid.

 _Finally_ , Rohan laced his fingers and stretched his arms out towards the horizon, _some peace and quiet_.

______

“Say, you look quite familiar,” Izumi took her dumplings and sizzle crisps from the vendor as he narrowed his eyes, “aren’t you – “

“Yeah,” _wow this smells amazing_ , “I’m exactly who you think I am.”

She popped a sizzle crisp into her mouth.

_Okay, definitely putting in a good word for this guy with Mom and Dad._

“Have a nice day!”

She didn’t need to turn back around to see the look on his face. Or the little bow he might take as a knee-jerk reaction. Or the palm he might bring up to his forehead as he turned around to ask if the cook just saw who he just saw.

Sometimes the most effective way to sneak out of the palace and into the public was not really to sneak at all. She wasn’t hiding in plain sight; she was just in plain sight. The way she liked it.

_Behold! Behold?_

She shook her head, grimaced.

_Just leave it at ‘I am Princess Izumi of the Fire Nation, daughter of Fire Lord Zuko and Waterbending Master Fire Lady Katara, and also a pretty good dancer, by the way, thanks for asking.’_

She turned a corner into Harbor City Square.

_That’s kind of a mouthful. I mean, I guess I could just leave some stuff out. How many Izumis could there be?_

If they recognized her, they recognized her, no need to spell it out anyway.

There was a tree that really looked like it could use some company, and Izumi (Princess of the Fire Nation, blah blah blah) was nothing if not friendly. She perched underneath it, stretched her legs out, and watched the people stroll by. Listened to them exchange laughs and shouts as easily as a coin for a mango. Let the sunlight drip through the leaves and into her lunch.

 _Let the guards notice I’m gone,_ she shoved a dumpling in her mouth, _give them something to do today._

______

“I mean I don’t think it will explode, but it’s kinda… I think about it sometimes, you know?”

“MrOw”

“Yeah, no,” he flaked off a piece of fish and handed it to the little cat circling underneath his knees and around his feet, “the _whole_ city on top of a volcano? It’s…”

“mroOOOow”

The fish was pretty good, kinda salty. Kinda, sweet? Not bad. Nothing so simple would dare be served in the palace. So, not bad at all. Maybe perfect, then.

“Especially if it’s the capital, good point.”

The cat had been roaming down near the harbor and Rohan had been following (well, chasing) the cat for all of twenty minutes. He had started talking to the cat immediately.

_Hi there. Whoa, hey. Where are you – Hey! Slow down Lightning!_

He had no idea if the cat had a name before and he really didn’t care. Now he was Lightning. He was a little orange streak illuminating alleyways and side streets, winding him through places some of the snobby kids and their snobby noble parents (he could call them snobby, that’s what his mom called them) would call ‘unsavory’. And then finally leading him to the most unsavory, the most uncivilized, the most grimy, sweaty, noisy, crowded, wonderful, smoke and spice filled, meat-smelling place this side of the Capital Island Gates: the market. The look in his eyes matched the feeling in Rohan’s stomach; they both screamed fish. So what were they to do but drop a couple Ban in exchange for some. Freshly roasted on sticks and just a little greasy.

_Is this something you do often? Mooch off humans._

He wondered what would happen if he scooped Lightning up and brought him back to the palace. There was a place for him in the garden, or at the foot of his bed.

“I wish you could tell me if you already had a home,” Lightning rolled over and bit gently at the hand that was quite literally feeding him, “cuz, I don’t really want to steal you.”

_Except, I really, really, really want to steal you._

He broke off another piece of fish.

“Or maybe I can just live wherever you already do.”

“MrOOow!”

Rohan smiled and sank deeper onto the ground letting the cat trample his stomach now.

“Me too buddy, me too.”

It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to bring home a cat. Probably not. He could be bringing home sacks of raw fish, or a sword, or two swords. No more than three. And one would be small. A glorified letter opener.

_Better a cat than… I don’t know … a robber, an assassin, an ex-Fire Lord -_

Lightning bit his palm.

“Guess you don’t have a dark sense of humor, huh.”

Cat’s tongues felt weird. Rohan shook his head as the cat licked his arm.

No, a cat wouldn’t be the worst thing he could bring home.

_Your son brought home a cat off the street._

_Well, did my son name it already?_

They would come around. They would all come around. Right? His dad had a certain fondness for broken, gritty things – cracked teacups, old stained portraits. And his mom considered a flying lemur ( _far_ more destructive than a cat) to be nothing less than a close personal friend. Lu Ten was softer than mochi dropped on a midsummer sidewalk; he’d form an attachment faster than he could blink. Kya would pretend not to care ( _cat, no cat, in the grand scheme of the universe, does it matter at all_ ), but he knew he’d find him curled up in her arms, knew she’d be smooshing his little cheeks and calling him dumb baby names in dumb baby talk. And Izumi? Izumi would just be thrilled to have yet another thing to tie bows around and cover with rubies and glitter or whatever it was that made his twin’s eyes go funny and huge and round.

 _Never Give Up Without a Fight_.

Rohan stared at the two empty sticks in his hand. So did Lightning.

“Now what?”

And with that, and their food so tragically gone, the cat took off again with the boy leaping over carts and cobblestones to follow.

_________

_Oh I really like it. I love it. I was born for it I think._

That’s what she would say to the boy across the square, the boy talking to his friends who all looked to be just slightly younger than her older sister, if he were to find his way to her and start a conversation. If he were to rest his cheeks on his knuckles and blink his big … brown (actually he was much too far away to tell what color his eyes were but brown felt safe) eyes, sigh and ask about her life. Her life so different from his. And yet.., Perhaps so much the same… That’s what she might say if they were to have a conversation. If he should be so lucky.

Of course, Izumi could go talk to him, if she wanted to. And she wanted to. But the shade was so lovely, and her stomach so full, and if she had learned anything at all from her Great Uncle (and she hoped she had), it was that one should never pass up the opportunity to relax on a full stomach. It would be a real shame to let dear Uncle Iroh down, would it not?

_I do like it._

She pouted at the patches of blue sky above her. She talked to no one. She wanted to talk to everyone. In her head, she did.

_If you ask me…_

Again, no one did.

_The silks and the servants and the dresses and the jewelry, it’s all pretty cool I guess. I mean I guess._

But the silks and the servants and the dresses and the jewelry weren’t all. She also loved just looking out from walkways and balconies at the capital spread out beneath her. Especially when the sun started to set, when it started to turn everything from the mountains to the rooftops to the harbor out in the distance just the slightest bit gold. Then again, she also quite enjoyed the view at night, when the lanterns in the streets and the lamps in the windows would start to glow all over, on and off like little lightning bugs trailing over the hills and down to the sea. Sometimes, she thought, she could just lean on the railing and watch her city forever.

 _Anyway_ , she would say to the boy, who was still across the square, who was still just there waiting to be talked to, if she wanted, but she couldn’t get up, couldn’t disappoint, _anyway, you should come to the palace and see it sometime. You don’t need, like, an official royal invitation. My Dad won’t care. He’s pretty cool about that sort of stuff._

She would point to the statue in the center of the square.

_That’s, you know, him. He thinks it’s weird that there’s a statue of him here, anywhere really. Do you think it’s weird? I think it’s kind of cool. But I’m sure you’d also think it’s cool if there was a statue of your dad in the middle of some neighborhood. He’d be super happy to meet you in person._

He’d certainly be polite, but super happy? She would leave that to her mother. She would be, in fact always was, super happy to meet any friends of her children. Especially if they were, don’t take this the wrong way, but, well, ‘regular kids’. And frankly, Izumi wouldn’t mind either, having some people who weren’t adults (or her siblings, no offense) around. The palace was full of adults. Teeming with them. It was practically an infestation. Something had to be done about that.

Not that it wasn’t fun when all the adults in the palace bowed to her and addressed her as Princess Izumi (not that she would correct them if they left off her title, but somehow, miraculously, they never did). Not that it wasn’t fun to skip and twirl down the hallways (well? Who was going to tell her not to?), wave as the guards stared, giggle as the ladies-in-waiting that her mom called snobs scoffed or rolled their eyes, maybe (wouldn’t it be funny) blow a kiss to a couple roaming fire sages who would most certainly sigh and let their eyebrows sag with their shoulders. Not that it wasn’t fun to twirl and skip and leap all the way into the throne room and plop down beside her parents, following all the grown eyes following her and beam. Maybe give her mom a quick kiss on the cheek and her dad a boop on the nose. Not that it wasn’t fun to sit there in yellow or purple or pink or turquoise or green or all of the above and straighten her spine and feel so much taller than all the so-called important people – ministers, diplomats, foreign dignitaries, other fun varieties of mostly wealthy men. Even as she descended, they had to bow; they still had to look up at her. A little girl who would bow slightly in return and then skip away laughing.

_But just as a warning, there are some really stuffy, really boring people he and Mom have to work with. All they do is talk about politics or whatever._

She didn’t worry about the boy’s parents being any of those stuffy, boring people her parents had to work with, firstly because he would probably agree if they were, and secondly, he was a Harbor City boy, not from the Caldera. But then again, look where she herself happened to be on such a beautiful afternoon. But then again, again, she wasn’t even talking to him!

_My sister’s really into all that stuff. But she’s a mega-nerd. I guess one of us has to be…_

The boy across the square took a pipa out of a case on the ground. Izumi felt that he must have heard her sigh. The breeze rolled off the sea, caught it, and delivered it like the catch of the day. It must have landed like a coin in the pipa case. One friend took out a drum, the other a flute.

_You know Izumi -_

She thought of the look in Uncle Iroh’s eyes, sometimes, especially when he was about to say something a little cryptic, it seemed he went straight to the Spirit World.

_You know Izumi, my dear, if the music is playing, you might as well dance._

______

_Alright, now I know how Mom feels._

Rohan snatched Lightning off the ground with one hand and ran the other across his forehead.

“I think training with a sword fighting master is going to be easier than trying to keep up with you.”

“MRow.”

“No, I’m sure they make swords for cats.”

He had half a mind to take out his father’s dagger.

_Bad idea Rohan. Really bad. Could be fun though._

Lightning had brought him to the heart of the neighborhood: Harbor City Square. It was a nice enough square, not that Rohan considered himself an expert on squares. It was like a lot of squares he supposed. Tree-lined, open, square-shaped most importantly. He felt a knot in his stomach: the retaliation of digesting fish after a lengthy chase. He tucked another arm under his cat and dropped himself onto the base of the statue that stood smack dab in the center of the square.

He looked up at the outstretched arm of the statue, the flame that rose up day and night from its open bronze palm. He wondered how far you could see the flame if you were out at sea. It was probably miles. Miles and miles and miles. Probably all the way to the Earth Kingdom. Or maybe not. Who could say. He scanned the bronze sleeves, bronze collar, bronze neck, and, ah there it was, the bronze face not horribly dissimilar to his own. He squinted and curled his lip.

“Hey Dad.”

He had actually wanted to take a moment, peer deep into the light of day and try to extract some stars, try to think about his place in the universe, try to make himself feel a little bit smaller so he could realize he was bigger than whatever title he happened to be born into. And that was the trouble, wasn’t it? Even if he swam a hundred miles there was nowhere he could go where there wouldn’t be a reminder. He wanted to pull his shirt over his face, lower his gaze. But, if he was being honest with himself, he really could have sat anywhere; he didn’t have to sit right at the giant feet of his giant, glistening, fake father. Most people didn’t pay attention. Most people wouldn’t put two and two together. Who under the sun would stop their day, stop dead in their tracks to look a young boy in the eyes, to stare at his face, then stare at the statue, then stare back at his face, then back at the statue, then blurt out a _saaaay aren’t –_

“You,” he lifted Lightning up and brought them nose-to-nose, “are so lucky you were born a cat.”

_I wonder what Uncle Sokka is up to._

He leaned back under his father’s shadow. Lightning liked to be scratched between the ears.

 _Noted_.

His cat let out a grateful purr and Rohan swore, swore on his honor or the honor of the nation or whatever honor people swore on nowadays, that the little scamp was smiling.

_Look at the coat on you! You’d be just fine in the South Pole._

Rohan closed his eyes and listened to the idle chatter of people he didn’t know. People who in the right light did know and in today’s light didn’t know him. He had been paraded out since birth, but there was no parade now. He had, just as everyone else, been floating in and out of the afternoon light. The birds in the trees were fighting over each other and the seagulls were fighting them all. Though, the seagulls would fight anyone. Were their cries those of battle or of freedom? How many of them had inadvertently flown with him that day all the way down from the Caldera? Had any? He couldn’t tell. He wouldn’t be able to tell. That felt comforting.

From the other side of the square, some little band was firing up a crowd. Every so often they would cheer for something, _ooh_ and _aah_ at something. Or someone. Who knows what had caught their ears, caught their eyes. Probably some kid doing flips for a few coins. He’d seen street performers before, how easily they could charm people with a few simple moves. People were easy to impress. He’d know. He’d only have to throw on his title and his armor trimmed with gold. That was about all it took.

_I can do flips. I can so do flips. Forwards, backwards, I could probably flip sideways too. I can take out my dagger and do a million flips and I wouldn’t even get a single cut. Not a scratch. I bet this kid isn’t even that good._

He really had tried to keep his eyes closed, concentrate on the breeze, and the sunlight creeping up his boots. Keep his mind on the big ball of breathing orange fur in his lap. The ball of fur he would readily, easily, mercilessly, kill for after all of about an hour. But that crowd was into something and, well, curiosity killed the –

_Nope, sorry pal._

Curiosity got the better of him. He sprang to his heels and gave a small salute off the top of his forehead to the statue that would gaze out to sea forever.

The crowd cheered wildly.

______

“Oh _please_! You’re all _so_ nice!”

Izumi took bow after bow as she watched faces light up, hands somehow still clapping.

“Give the boys a hand! Come on!”

She turned around to wink at the band, mostly the boy playing the pipa (he had a name, as it turned out, Ryu), but the whole band, really.

She wasn’t going to tell them she had no formal training. Five years now at the Royal Academy of Dance was, well, she wasn’t exactly self-taught. Not like most street performers, she assumed.

“I think they should play more! Don’t you?”

As always, everyone agreed with Izumi.

_This is so fun! Do they do this every day? They should come play for the next royal banquet. Oh! Oh! Oh! Or our birthday party! Rohan won’t mind. He’ll love them. I know it._

She found herself clapping, for the crowd, for the band, for her own ingenious plan forming in her mind. She gave the boys a nod. Ryu followed her lead and started plucking out something slow and, she wanted to say, philosophical? His friends followed suit.

_Oooh. How interesting!_

Izumi let the melody pick up her feet. Let it wrap itself around her arms and legs. She wore the music like armor, wielded it like a sword or a flame or a long rope of water. She had often watched her mother and father training her older brother and sister. It wasn’t uncommon for her to poke her head around some column or out from behind some tree, bat her eyelashes, let her voice drip honey, ask if she could join. It was polite to ask even if she knew the answer was more often than not a resounding yes, yes, of course, what a treat.

_Remember, it’s an extension of the chi inside you._

That wasn’t a lesson they had taught at the Academy. Izumi was lucky to learn it.

The music picked up and Izumi flew. She let herself fill the air, let herself take the space around her. It was the only space she ever had to work for, the air while she was dancing. Was she naturally gifted? Sure, a little. But doing what she could do when she danced, feeling the way she felt, and making others feel it too? That was nothing linked to her birth. They didn’t applaud because she was Princess Izumi of the Fire Nation, Daughter of blah blah blah. They cheered because she was good. Yes, she was good at being a princess. Great at it. Perhaps, no offense, the best. But as a dancer, she was good at what she did because, like anyone else, she had worked, was still working. Though she made sure no one ever actually _knew_ that.

 _Okay. Grande finale._

Izumi drew up her arms, up to the sun, as if to call in the tide, propelling herself into the air, rounding through it with a kick, and like a cat herself, landing on her feet once more. She pulled her hands into a simple bow and came up with a smile on her face and her eyes on the first face she had probably ever seen besides maybe their mother’s. A face that screamed _what are you doing here and how many guards did you bring with you._ And also, a cat? A _really_ cute cat. A cat with fur just waiting, begging, to be put into little ponytails.

“Rohan! What are the odds!”

______

Lightning wriggled in his arms as he pulled him away from his sister’s hand and watched the crowd dissipate, watched the merry little band pack up.

“Rohan’s a big meanie, yes he is,” Izumi, despite her brother’s efforts, managed to make contact with the cat, “wouldn’t even dance with me once, no he wouldn’t!”

“I didn’t wanna mess up whatever was going on with you and your boyfriend.”

He couldn’t tease Kya like that, she’d explode, literally, light his hair on fire, give him an Avatar’s haircut. Izumi rarely fell apart, yet he had a special knack for making the princess utterly implode.

“He IS NOT – “

They both heard Ryu laugh. Likely at a friend’s joke, but who could be sure.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

Izumi inhaled what seemed to be every molecule of oxygen in the world and let it go with a tight smile.

“He’s so shy,” she was once again talking to the cat, “you’ve really gotta loosen up, you know.”

A seagull cried out overhead, a child ran screaming (or laughing, hard to tell) across the square – his mother following suit, and a flame held high in the air kept burning.

_I’m plenty loose._

The stolen dagger was still in his pocket. The stolen cat was still in his arms. Izumi turned on her heels under stolen daylight.

“Excuse me.”

She turned on her heels and he noticed, she hadn’t been wearing a crown.

There were days when he wished he could be a little more like his sister. She seemed to wade through the days like they were nothing more than shallow water. Too often he felt he was knee-deep in mud and slashing his way through a mess of vines and leaves, and if he ever got through to the other side he had no idea what he would find. The fire burning in the throne room made her eyes grow wider, made her spine grow taller. It made his insides writhe.

But then again, she, unlike himself, was a horrible ice fisher (nothing he wouldn’t say to her face).

Izumi’s “not-boyfriend” ( _sure_ ) brought his hand to his neck and blushed. Rohan raised an eyebrow at Lightning. Lightning just yawned.

_What did she say to him?_

Then his eyes practically fell out of his head. Then he fumbled. Then he bowed like someone socked him in the gut.

_Oh. That._

“Guess our cover’s blown, huh. Well, not yours so much. Mine though…”

Then she stooped, grabbed his shoulders, and brought him up.

There were only two minutes of Rohan’s existence in which he did not exist with Izumi. There were two minutes where he was the youngest child of the Fire Lord and the Fire Lady. Two minutes without her. Never once in his life had he seen her stop _anyone_ from showing her the customary (and humiliating, he thought) respect given to members of the royal family, their family.

“It’s not for a while, and it’s not even going to be a big thing,” Ryu couldn’t quite exhale the red out of his face, “only like… 150 people? 200 max.”

That seemed to drain the color out of it. Izumi gave him a light thwack on the bicep.

_Why? Why Izumi, why? Why would you, for the love of, ugh –_

“You guys are good, I like you,” sizzle crisps and dumplings came up her esophagus to haunt her throat, “I like your band. And, I mean, we could be friends.”

_Shut up. Please shut up. I’m never leaving the palace again and if Rohan is laughing at me I’ll snatch the dagger from his boot and stab him._

“Yeah! We are friends,” alright, maybe she would spare her brother’s life, “today was fun… and I think your dancing brought in a few more Ban…”

 _If this conversation continues I am going to stab myself_. _I am going to take the dagger out of my boot, lie down on the ground, and stab myself._

Lightning licked at his paw. The breeze lifted the scent of the sea and the world that met its shores into the air. The sun dripped off the leaves and the rooftops, it dripped down and it painted the afternoon just a little yellow. It was warm, and it could have been warmer. And soon Izumi, giggling for reasons he’d rather not know, was back at his side.

“Are we taking him home?”

“The cat or Mr. Boy Band?”

She was so easy to tease. She really had to make it more of a sport. Rohan scoffed at the idea that _he_ was the one who got told to loosen up.

“Ha. Ha. Ha.”

“Yeah. Mom and Dad are just gonna have to deal with it.”

Izumi smiled.

“Good.”

The day was warm, and it could have been warmer. And the sky could have been hazier. And they could have been wandering the halls wondering what to do. They could have stood on the balcony and looked at the city like it was nothing more than a tapestry. They didn’t know what the odds were that they would both pick today as their stolen one. But maybe that was good. For everything that he was and that she wasn’t, and that she was that he wasn’t, they both were a little more like-minded than not. At least in the moment. They could return home, climb back over the walls and through the windows they had crept over and through earlier that day. Or not. Or they could indulge in more of what the market had to offer (truthfully, neither would say no to lychee ice cream). They could just sit underneath a tree, or at the base of the statue alongside the kids doing card tricks and the old folks feeding the birds. Maybe they could sit and wander and eventually find themselves going home of their own accord without anyone the wiser, or arm in arm with the royal guard. Either way, there would still be questions about the cat.

Izumi was first to sit at the statue. She plopped herself down a few feet away from a man who looked roughly to be their father’s age, their mother’s age. He had his eyes closed and turned up to the sun. He too was seeing how much time he could steal. Rohan sat down unceremoniously next to her. The statue of their father faced out towards the sea, towards the world. They faced the square. They faced the people going by. Izumi motioned for the cat. Rohan sighed and handed over the drooping creature in all its pudgy, fluffy, orange glory. He immediately nestled in her lap, and she scratched him in between the ears without a second thought. The cat purred. The light dripped. The leaves and rooftops glistened. The birds cried freedom and the children laughed. Somewhere a woman was probably still yelling about the price of squid.

The weather could have been worse. Hotter. The air more stagnant. They could have still been in the palace, having missed out on a cat. Having missed out on a new friend. They could have been in the palace, probably having missed out on each other. One way or another, by the end of the day they’d be back home. Rohan would slip the dagger back in their father’s desk drawer. They would both go back to their own chambers after dinner. They’d only really existed without each other for two minutes, but some days it felt like more. It was nice to be together now. Out of the corners of their eyes, they caught each other’s simultaneous smirks. There was a thought lingering in the air between the two: lychee ice cream.

**Author's Note:**

> Look at that, another fluffy one in the bag. See, it's not all angst inside my brain! 
> 
> Was really REALLY going for some Studio Ghibli style small moments can be big moments, sometimes there doesn't need to be anything more than a beautiful day in a town by the sea, vibes. Hope that tracked! 
> 
> I had so much fun writing these two. Truly had to channel two separate halves of my brain (regular, very shy, very introverted vs. T H E A T R E K I D). I think the twins in a way reflect a lot of who Zuko could have been as a child if, you know, his father didn't completely crush his spirit and, well, you know the rest. 
> 
> Thanks as always for reading these stories! 
> 
> And thanks as always to my friends who let me chuck ideas at them at weird hours of the night.


End file.
